What About What She Wants?
by FireEthereal
Summary: "It comes down to this: I know what I want and I want to wake up, everyday, in this house, with you. The question is, Andy, what do you want?"  A one-off short exploring Andy's thoughts about her relationships.


_ ==Insert the generic "I don't own the characters" disclaimer here== (you would think the words "fanfic" would kind of imply that in the firstplace)  
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_This is my first time actually posting anything on here, so I'm a little nervous. This is kind of my take on the Sam-Andy-Luke love triangle. It draws both from what I've seen in the show and from personal thoughts/experiences. I wrote parts of it for the intro to longer story I want to do, then decided to take them and do a one shot story with them. I think I'm going to keep writing the other story, but will wait to see what people think of this before I decide if I'm going to post it. Its been a while since I've done any creative writing and it feels good to be at it again. Please read and review, and try to keep any critisms constructive. Thanks._

_PS: I'm not sure I actually like the title, but it worked so I went with it.  
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**What About What She Wants?**

His words from when they first bought the house echoed in her mind: "It comes down to this: I know what I want and I want to wake up, everyday, in this house, with you. The question is, Andy, what do you want?" He was sure, determined, and he knew what he wanted But what about her? What about what her wants or more importantly what her needs?

Their relationship had the cute romance, the fun, the play. But could it help with the pain, the fear, and the darkness? It was an escape, not a fix. The smile was just a mask, inside she was still broken. Inside were wounds that the momentary pleasures of sex couldn't touch. The abandonment of a mother walking out on her, the burden of responsibility of an alcoholic father, the scars of many broken relationships which had each taken a piece of her with them. Andy was far from whole, and Luke's touch couldn't reach that pain, couldn't heal those wounds, as much as she wanted to pretend that it could. The things she felt were on a level that he didn't understand. He hadn't felt this kind of pain, didn't know what it was like to feel this lost. To him being happy was a simple choice, and she wished it could be so easy. To feel like you were being crushed under the weight of so much pressure, wishing that you could bleed simply so that the pain wouldn't all be hidden inside. Struggling to face another day wondering if things would ever get better. Unless you'd been in that place, you just couldn't understand.

To Luke she simply worried too much, took things too hard. She needed to 'relax' and 'lighten up'. He meant well, but his patronizing words only told her that he'd never been in her place... but Sam had. She could see it in his eyes every day they walked the streets, and every time he tried to encourage her. He knew what it was like question every aspect of who you were, to see the pain behind every face you talked to. He knew what it was like to try to help someone who only pushed you away day after day, to watch someone you love slowly destroying themselves and be powerless to stop it. Whenever he laid a hand on her shoulder she sensed that he understood wanting to scream "why?" to everything that was going wrong around you. To feel so overwhelmed and like the things you were doing would barely make a dent in all the pain you saw.

She also got the impression that he too had once watched his life fall apart. That he'd been in that place of picking up the shattered pieces and trying to put it back together again. He'd once been on the long journey that she had, through high school, through the academy, of trying to put the past behind her and start new. He'd been where she was, trying to face all the pain inside and not let it consume her. Though he'd never told her any of it aloud, she knew that he understood.

That's why she had gone to him that night during the blackout. Luke hadn't understood how much she needed him, that what she felt stretched far beyond just one man who'd been on the receiving end of her gun. What she felt was from a lifetime of struggle where there had been no one to talk to. She'd gone to Sam because she knew he would be there to talk to, and that making time for her wouldn't be an issue. He would have understood her too if she'd chosen to talk, probably in a way no else ever had for her. She hadn't wanted to talk though. Talking would only have opened up the wall that held back the pain. She hadn't want to feel the pain, and instead had tried to bury it.

This time though she wanted to talk. This time she wanted someone to understand. She was so tired of trying to carry this load. She was so tired of trying to bury her pain by pretending she was ok. She pretended with Luke, she pretended at work. She pretended because it was the only way to get through the day without breaking down. Tonight she didn't want to pretend anymore. Tonight she wanted to feel it and have someone understand. She wanted to have someone listen and not pass it off as her being "too sensitive". She wanted to feel like she wasn't alone in feel lost and confused about things, to feel like someone else had been there.

Luke was working late again. A case needed his attention, his job needed him to make time for it. So she was standing alone in the dark, knowing that tonight wasn't one of the nights where he would be with her and tomorrow wasn't one of the mornings where he would wake up with her. She raised her hand and knocked softly on the door. It came down to this: tonight she knew what she wanted, and she didn't want to be alone. Nor did she want to bury her pain again under pleasure and sex, she wanted to feel it and she wanted to be understood.


End file.
